You've done your best to beat me down into a shadow of what I was supposed to be (in my mind, anyway!), but I thank God every day for making me be a strong woman to begin with, & giving me more strength with every new symptom that shows up...and that's been a whole fucking lot of symptoms over the last 17 years! Hell, I lost the physical ability to write in 1995, so it's a total blessing that computers have become something that nearly everyone has now. So, blah! Screw you! For some reason, the strongest people are the ones who are cursed/blessed with any kind of chronic disease...for the most part, the people who can still DO things seem to melt away into the background of your life, no matter how diligently they profess their undying support & affection. They probably still do, and that's okay, I've found a lot of friends since, and my life is still full! And, I've learned to expect that, you lose the level of respect for some, but, you learn some people you're better off losing them, instead of hanging on for too long....remember the saying "Familiarity breeds contempt" I've found it's all too true...
Honestly, if it wasn't for me being the one with this hated disease & learning all the ins & outs of it firsthand, who knows?? I may have taken off running. As much as I'd HATE to admit it, I might've run too! See, so that's why I think the strongest people are the ones who get this disease...cuz if I wasn't this strong, I'dve offed myself a loooooonnnnnnnggggggg time ago! One definite thing you learn is patience! When you learn how little you can do, on your own, and you have to do everything slowly, cuz you'll fuck up if you hurry, trust me, you'll learn patience.
Or, when I voluntarily quit driving when I was 40, oh my God, there was almost nothing I'd rather do than drive! From the first time I could drive, it was "my thing"...Mom always used to say I took to driving like a duck took to water! I always loved hearing her say that. I even requested to be transferred to a store 50 miles north of Marion when I was 20 years old, and it was the perfect job for me. Took exactly an hour up 23N to get to, but it was a great drive through the country, I never had to go deal with driving to some big city...it was just me & my rock...all through the 80's!
I'm really glad that I never knew I had ms until I was 29. If I'd known that I was going to get hit with the big "disabled" stick when I was a teenager, I never would've had, well, holy hell...Tiffany! Now that hurts like hell to think...because I still think she's the best of me, you know?
Anyway, you worthless sack of shit around my neck, I'm done writing you a worthless letter that doesn't make me feel better, just more depressed...thanks for the added strength...
BoUnCeS!! LibbY!
10 comments:
Well said, Libby. You can write letter #2...if you feel like it--no virgin ears here.
I can't imagine what you have gone through.
Thank you for stopping by, and for your sweet comment. You are too good to me!
(((( hugs ))))
Doris
oh, doris, you're too kind to me & the world for the talent you have at bringing your writings to life! btw, i ordered the book, it'll be here monday...
rock it out girl! and yes it makes me more depressed.
i don't want to be that strong woman, lemme be a healthy WIMP with an intact family in my next life please! save the strong woman lesson for another lady lol... i think we've paid our dues.
ok i helped bitched.
p.s. i would have been here earlier except you didn't show up in my subscription so damn blogger too. =p
i think i'm cussing....again.
yeah, sherry, now that you mention it, we strong women end up with a raw deal, don't we?
(1) I would point out that you showed additional strength in spending two hours a day alone with 1980s rock.
(2) This reminds me of some of the cancer sufferers in my life--in particular my grandfather. He was in such pain, and his physical abilities (even down to driving a car--he literally couldn't turn the key in the ignition) waned so he couldn't do much of anything.
This really made him angry. I'm sure the primary anger was toward the cancer. But the anger seeped over into everything. At one point near the end he damn near hated everybody. Then one day, he almost bit my head off when I visited him.
My mom told me to remember (good advice actually), that it's not really me that's making him angry. It's the pain and his condition. As the loving grandson, what could I do but stand there and take the abuse? I wouldn't leave him.
I really hear your anger at MS, and wonder too if it's generalized into other areas (e.g., friends who now seem false).
Don't get me wrong. I love what you've written here, and I think that you should write more along these lines if you need to. I write this somewhat fearful that your anger will spread to others, until one day you hate my guts.
If that ever happens, I'm gonna tell you that's okay. I'd never trivialize your suffering, so I know that this is something that might come with the territory.
Besides, if you haven't lost me as a friend by now, you won't.
(3) Unlike most of my cyberpals, you know how to reach me.
aww, hugs, x! &, actually, if anything, i don't say ENOUGH about what's up with me...kev & tiff say that and mom used to say that, even bk in the 80's, "you never bitch!" lol..! then, i had NO reason to...right now, i have more reasons than anyone could even imagine!
hey libby, i'm back to bitch. i am pissed. had i NOT gone to the neuro i would still be rrms. now he's saying he thinks i am ppms. i liked rrms better.
why did i go to the neuro in the first place....
shit.
hell, sherry, i've been secondary progressive forever now...how good does that make me feel?
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